


Cruelty Potential

by Bandtrees



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dark, Gen, Non-Canonical Character Death, One-Shot, Suspense, Tommy POV, Unhappy Ending, a first for a fic of mine!, villain AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandtrees/pseuds/Bandtrees
Summary: [Video Game Cruelty Potential] is the potential a video game has for the player to do awful, horrible things to enemies or even friendly and neutral NPCs.Mr. Freeman's gun was always drawn, his expression hard and knowing, even when he was faced with creatures Tommy had never read about in any books before!
Comments: 31
Kudos: 79





	Cruelty Potential

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like aus where gordon's player is Not the kind roleplayer we all know and love are a dime a dozen, but that didn't stop me from wanting to try my spin on it! this was... very sad to write :'D but fun!
> 
> this is my first serious hlvrai fic, and was also initially posted on tumblr here!: https://bandtrees.tumblr.com/post/626455039804833792/cruelty-potential
> 
> edit: [9/5/2020] used a hlvrai work skin for this! it doesn't get put to use much because there's not a lotta dialogue in this, but it's still a super cool skin! credit to thedevotress on tumblr - https://thedevotress.tumblr.com/post/628408989141581824/i-just-got-reminded-of-my-hlvrai-workskin-so
> 
> enjoy!

Much like Tommy, Gordon seemed to always be squeezing his gun’s trigger. It was an amusing similarity, but not one he would’ve expected. He’d seen Gordon Freeman in passing before now, of course — a bright-minded yet cruelly underutilized physicist, often made to perform manual labor and flip switches rather than anything that could do with his degree — but he never expected him to be the type with an itchy trigger finger.

Then again, though, given what they were going through, Tommy couldn’t blame him. No way an underutilized physicist would know how to handle the… what were they calling it, Resonance Cascade? Tommy barely knew how to handle it himself, riding just on instinct and the hope that the universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to keep him from seeing his Dad and Sunkist one last time.

He was scared out of his mind, really, but tried to take it in stride — and so did Mr. Freeman! That was a relief. As scared out of his mind he must’ve been, too, Mr. Freeman never let it stop him. His gun was always drawn, his expression hard and knowing, even when he was faced with creatures Tommy had never read about in any books before!

He didn’t even seem to need any of Dr. Coomer’s advice, performing Long Jumps™️ and shooting down ropes to carry before the old scientist could even open his mouth to explain them. And that was saying nothing about how he faced danger — shooting a security guard with so little hesitation that it even made Benrey squirm. “A spy from the military, defeated!” Coomer had marveled at the sight, turning to grin at Gordon. “Fine shooting, Gordon!”

Tommy didn’t know how they could tell he was a spy — he was just at his station, and hadn’t even been able to greet them before being shot down in a hail of bullets — but Gordon seemed to know so, and Gordon knew more than Tommy, about ropes and Long Jumps™️ and how many shots it took to kill each creature. The physicist just adjusted his blood-splattered glasses and kept walking without a care in the world, and so Tommy figured he’d do the same.

Assuming Mr. Freeman knew best quickly grew to be Tommy’s only option. Nobody else seemed fit to lead — smart and strong as Dr. Coomer was, he seemed to attract danger like a magnet — and Mr. Freeman strode through the apocalypse with ease, almost as if he’d seen it all before. Well-aimed shots at the Peeper-Puppies were taken without even looking, and he seemed to operate on a wavelength completely different from the rest of the team.

Well — it was kind of a stretch to say any of them operated on the same wavelength, actually. That was why they needed Gordon to lead, Tommy reasoned. How much harder would this have been if he got bogged down by the others’ shenanigans at every turn? He was cold and efficient — nearly shooting Benrey in the foot to get him off of a crate, clearly having no time for dilly dallying — which was just what they needed, right?

Benrey didn’t seem to get that. He always poked and prodded at Gordon, asking about his passport, spouting jokes and non sequiturs presumably just to annoy him. He didn’t seem to have any care for the gravity of the situation, even when Tommy figured he was just... coping in his own way. Regardless, as if the universe was punishing him for his nuisances, he was the first to go. He was one of Tommy’s best friends (really! They played _Petz Dogz 2_ together all the time!), and all he could do was watch as the rest of the team ushered him off, unable to take his eyes off of Benrey’s body crushed beneath a fire door.

“It’s very sad, but it had to happen, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer spoke matter-of-factly as Gordon fired another shot into Benrey’s head — putting him out of his misery if the crushed spine hadn’t already. Tommy’s instincts said this was wrong — really, _really_ wrong — but his instincts were often reckless emotional impulses. None of which had a place here if he was going to survive Black Mesa.

All they could do was continue on their ways, soon getting distracted by another soda machine and managing to put that uncomfortable sight behind them. _It had to happen,_ Dr. Coomer had said, and Tommy supposed he was right. How different was Benrey from that first security guard they’d killed? Surviving the Resonance Cascade was an endeavor that couldn’t be treated lightly, and as painful as it was to think... if someone had to get left behind because they weren’t built for it, then so be it, right?

That was a sentiment Tommy was going to have to get used to. Until now, he’d never realized how spoiled he truly was — his worst concerns had always been trivial, like if Sunkist would be mad if he missed a walk, or if his _Despicable Me 2_ DVD would be too scratched to play from being hauled around in its case — never anything _real_. So painfully out of touch with his own psyche that he could barely even register the tragedy around him — unlike Gordon and Bubby, who fought valiantly through Black Mesa, aware of the tragedy but navigating it with ease. All Tommy had were his instincts, and they could only help him for so long.

Bubby was the next to go, his only crime being not making it to a fire door in time, creatures Tommy couldn’t identify at his heels. None of them were willing to make the same senseless sacrifice Benrey had, the door closing without obstruction as Bubby slammed his fists against it, turning from panicked begging to furious swearing at the drop of a hat as he watched Gordon leave without turning back.

Tommy darted after him as he continued, desperate to get away from the distant screaming and pounding. His fingers twitched, itching to shoot something, if only to get his mind off of what just happened. Bubby would be fine — he was smart, and powerful, and more than capable. He could handle everything that had been thrown at him thus far, and so would (hopefully) have no trouble with a few aliens, but it still left Tommy with an ache.

It was the principle of the thing. Unnecessary ruthlessness, like shooting that security guard they said was a spy, or caving in the skull of an injured scientist with a crowbar. Tommy said that like he hadn’t killed anyone — of course he had, hell, in this situation it was a necessity. But that was his instinct — his mind screaming at him to kill the creatures before they killed him.

Was it the same for Mr. Freeman? Tommy watched him as he made quick work of another security guard, with one shot between the shoulder blades, then roughly turning him over with a kick to fire another between the eyes. He did it with such ease that it may as _well_ have been instinct. Tommy rubbed his face with the only clean end of his lab coat, the smell of blood soaked into his clothes and skin overwhelming. If nothing else, how could Mr. Freeman and Dr. Coomer handle _that_?

Despite his cruelty, though, Tommy knew he wouldn’t be making it through Black Mesa without Gordon. He’d memorized the facility up and down, sure, but traversing it during a doomsday event was far different from doing so on the job. He followed Gordon closely, trying to mimic the way he carried his gun, the quick reflexes that made it so none of the blood splattering his HEV suit was his.

Inwardly, Tommy wondered what made him and Dr. Coomer so different from the corpses of the other workers throughout Black Mesa. If that was the approach he had to the Resonance Cascade… what made him want to spare them over the countless other scientists?

Tommy glanced down to the pistol in his grip, having to switch hands and wipe his right down the side of his pant leg — he’d been holding it for so long that his palms were growing sweaty. Was it that they could fight? Gordon seemed to have them covered in that department, but it made them useful. It was the only reason that made sense to Tommy, and he hoped Gordon knew he hadn’t yet outlived his usefulness when he shot down every barnacle he saw.

He missed one, and began to rethink if usefulness meant anything to Mr. Freeman as he let Dr. Coomer choke and sputter in its grip. As he followed Gordon out, Tommy couldn’t stop to tell if the other scientist’s struggling had ceased or not, having it drilled into his head by this point that lingering behind meant suicide.

He only hoped Dr. Coomer didn’t see him as much of a traitor as Bubby saw Gordon. He didn’t think Dr. Coomer was… well, really _capable_ of resentment, but the guilt remained. He hadn’t seen Bubby since they left him to be mauled, and didn’t anticipate anything different with Coomer.

It had to be done.

But had it really? It quickly registered to Tommy that their team of five had dwindled to two, and the silence was suffocating. None of Benrey’s jokes, or Dr. Coomer’s rattlings off of Wikipedia articles, or the gunfire of Bubby doing something reckless or other.

Tommy had always been a quiet man, often not speaking unless spoken to. Being comfortable with silence was a necessity, but here, it was dreadful. He should’ve been thankful to be rid of the chatter and gunshots and slurping and crashing, but it only brought emptiness — like the skin-crawling chill of being in a pitch-black room. There were no scientists or guards left to patrol the sub-levels of Black Mesa, and soldiers were taken out by Gordon with ease. For the stretch of what felt like days, the only sounds were the scuttling of creatures on the floor, footsteps, and gunfire.

Gordon didn’t say much. Or, at least, nothing Tommy felt the need to reply to — humming sometimes, little affirmative noises to himself, but that was about it. He supposed there wasn’t much _to_ say anymore — Tommy didn’t pry like Benrey, or boast like Bubby, or ramble like Dr. Coomer.

Maybe that was why he’d been spared.

He wiped a sweaty hand down his pant leg again. It was an uncomfortable thought, and one that only gave him more incentive to keep his mouth shut.

He had to be special to Gordon in some way to be the last member of their group by his side. He didn’t know if the other man would ever describe it like that, but Tommy felt as if they’d become friends amidst all of this. Despite the unease the killing brought him, Tommy wanted to escape here alive with his co-worker no less — they protected each other, fought together, they even talked about his dog and chatted in the breakroom early on… he knew he wouldn’t have gotten through this if it weren’t for Mr. Freeman.

He only wished Gordon thought the same of him — and realized far too late that it wasn’t out of hope, but fear.

The bridge the two were beginning to cross buckled and broke beneath them, a metallic screech sounding through the area as the steel cables snapped with a deafening crack. Tommy was just narrowly able to jump back and avoid falling with a yelp of surprise, heart hammering in his chest as he stumbled back, bumping into Gordon. The chunk of steel dropped into the abyss below — whatever had caused it to break under the weight of two people, it certainly wasn’t to code.

“Oh no, we could’ve falled, Mr. Freeman...” Tommy broke his silence to whimper, not even noticing the verbal slip-up as he clutched his gun to his chest. There was no sound of impact — no telling where the bottom of the pit was, or if one even existed at all. He glanced from the abyss to the other edge of the bridge, now slightly off-kilter from the break. This was a dead end now, he realized, but Gordon could probably make it with a running start and a Long Jump™️.

Tommy couldn’t, but Mr. Freeman wouldn’t mind helping him there, right? He allowed himself to relax, about to turn and try to squeeze past his companion when he felt something press against the back of his head. He knew from the hand Gordon was using that it was a gun. He froze.

“Mr. Freeman…?”

There was only one word in reply from the taciturn man.

“Move.”

It took a second to register, Tommy thinking for a moment that maybe he’d misheard, because the only places to move were forward and backward.

He was cornered — between a bullet and a bottomless pit, with nobody but him and Gordon. His eyes darted from end to end of the room, but there was no sign of Dr. Coomer, or Bubby, or Benrey, or any other scientist or security guard, and Tommy’s blood ran cold at the realization that Gordon had killed them all.

He killed them. He killed more people than the Resonance Cascade had.

They all thought he would free them, but Gordon only brought their pyre. Tommy’s breathing quickened, vision going red and blurry with tears. He couldn’t turn his head, too afraid of what would happen if he did, but he could feel Gordon’s eyes on him — the soulless, cold stare Tommy had wrongfully attributed to a mere calm confidence.

He did everything he could. He was a good partner, he followed close behind with his gun drawn whenever possible, all to avoid outliving his usefulness like the rest of the Science Team, but that didn’t seem to matter anymore. Not now that he was in Gordon’s way, even when he didn’t mean to be in a million years. His mouth ran dry — this wasn’t supposed to happen, they were friends, he was the one that didn’t bug him, he did everything _right_ , so why —

Tommy was jolted out of his thoughts by a stumble, losing his footing for a moment as the gun pressed harder. Mr. Freeman always seemed to have someplace to be — there was no time to waste, even when he’d forced his companion into a death-or-death situation. If he didn’t back into the barrel or step into the abyss, Tommy knew Gordon would just shoot him anyway.

The grated bridge beneath him distorted with tears, as did the pistol in his hand. He had a gun right there, and yet knew there were no hopes of defending himself. They’d long established that Mr. Freeman’s reflexes were quicker than his — there’d be a bullet in his brain before he could even raise his weapon.

It was hopeless.

Tommy had to force himself to step forward, once, then twice, painfully aware of the bridge beneath his feet until, in an instant, it was no more.

**Author's Note:**

> ...if it makes you feel any better, death is cheap in hlvrai and i imagine the science team reconvenes to hunt down gordon later ;w; or at least that's what i like to tell myself, you can imagine however XD
> 
> also i listened to a lot of ruinous by go! child when i wrote this — you can probably tell by one line referencing a lyric ;>
> 
> comments are appreciated! thank you for reading!


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